Plotbunny Suicide Corner
by DarkIceAngelFlare
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles, poetry etc. that I wrote for challenges and decided to lump together. Ch1: Dudley Dursley, Harry Potter and Never Have I Ever. Ch2: Salazar Slytherin poem. Ch3: Harry Potter and the Power of Music. Ch4: The aftermath of a girls' night out. Ch5:Collab with HP Slash Luv. Ch6: Luna and the Domo
1. Never Have I Ever Done This Before

**Round Two Entry for 'The Blindfolded Competition'. It's the best contest I've entered, with lots of personalised feedback. There's a second one starting soon, so you guys should check it out!**

**Theme: Random encounters**

**Character prompts: Dudley Dursley &amp; Blaise Zabini**

**Other prompts: Mystery (genre) &amp; Never Have I Ever**

**Pairing Orientation prompt: Pre-slash**

* * *

**Never Have I Ever Done This Before**

* * *

Dudley Dursley had never felt so out of place in his life. He was surrounded by Harry's friends, at a party in Harry's magical world and not a single normal– sorry, _non-magical_ – person was in sight, or so he assumed.

He really hated masquerades.

"Cheer up, Dudley!" Harry patted his estranged cousin's muscled arm.

"I know I said I wanted to get to know you properly, but couldn't we do this at a coffee shop or something?" Dudley groused as he sipped at a drink that burned the back of his throat.

He was so having words with his therapist one of these days. Sure, reconciling himself with Harry was important but it's not like she knew about the magical stuff. One of these nutters – sorry, _wizards_ – could kill him in a second!

"We could, but I thought you'd like this more. You like parties, right?" Harry asked.

"My parties don't involve ballrooms, medieval dress codes or masks that change the sound of your voice," muttered Dudley.

"Oh, yeah, the magical world is a bit… retro." Harry shrugged. "But we have fun too!"

Yeah, right. Ballroom dances with strangers was _so_ much fun. At least Dudley's sparrow mask hid his disgusted expression from the other partygoers, especially since he didn't lost it until he was significantly less sober. By the time he had reached that blissful level of full body buzzing, he and Harry were seated with three other people and he had failed at playing Wizarding Snap. His mask was also smouldering slightly.

"You suck at this," one of them, wearing a raven-shaped mask, told him.

"I'm just not used to it! I don't play this where I'm from," Dudley retorted, emboldened by the alcohol in his system.

"Well, what do you play then?" asked another, wearing a dove mask. Dudley thought it was thoroughly creepy that the mask used a male voice when she was clearly female. He told her so.

"The people who organised this are misogynists," Dove sneered. "They're also idiots."

"What kind of games do you play at parties?" Harry repeated the earlier question.

"Drinking games, kissing games, _Spin the Bottle, Never Have I Ever,_" Dudley began listing the usual college party games.

"What's _Never Have I Ever_?" interrupted the third stranger, wearing an eagle mask.

Dudley explained the rules, painfully aware that he was teaching a bunch of wizards a game which they would no doubt turn their noses up at. Surprisingly, they were intrigued and Harry proposed playing it right then.

"You go first," he urged Dudley, who shrugged as he raised his hands and spread his fingers.

"Never have I ever kissed a boy," he said randomly.

Four fingers went down. He gaped at his cousin who scratched his neck sheepishly.

Dove surveyed her companions before announcing, "Never have I ever been bisexual."

Three fingers went down.

She nodded in satisfaction. "At least you swing both ways."

"Never have I ever been homophobic," Raven snapped.

Dove snorted as she lowered a finger. Eagle and Dudley put one down as well.

"My family," Eagle explained.

"I'm not anymore," Dudley said awkwardly to Harry. Harry took a sip of his beer and didn't reply.

"Never have I ever…" Eagle began, "listened to Muggle music."

"Bullshit," Raven interrupted before Dudley could ask Harry what a Muggle was. "I've seen your _Best of Queen_ album."

"Fine," Eagle said mulishly. "You're ruining my reputation, you know."

"The point of the mask is to take away your identity," Dove reminded him.

"Give a man a mask and he will tell you the truth," Dudley quoted, but only Harry seemed to get the reference and looked taken aback.

"I'm not an idiot, you know," Dudley scowled at his cousin, who apologised for giving him that impression.

"Never have I ever killed a pet!" Eagle said loudly.

"That was one time!" Raven whined as he lowered a finger, followed by the rest.

"What did you kill?" Dudley asked Harry.

"My owl," Harry replied and refused to elaborate further. "Never have I ever been good at ballroom dancing."

Three fingers went down while Dove admonished Harry.

The game continued. By the time they were down to three fingers each, people were getting more personal.

"Never have I ever slept with a Ravenclaw," Dove said, watching in satisfaction as Eagle and Raven lowered a finger each.

"Never have I ever thought Cedric Diggory was hot," Raven countered, causing Harry and Dove to lower a finger.

Dudley had no idea what these people were talking about anymore.

"Never have I ever really been close to a family member," Dudley said when his turn rolled around again.

"That's just sad," Raven said as everyone else lowered a finger.

"My godfather," Harry murmured quietly as explanation.

"Never have I ever dated a Hufflepuff," Dove exclaimed, but no one lowered a finger. "Dammit!"

"What's with your obsession with the Houses?" Harry asked, but no reply was given.

"Never have I ever…" Raven said, considering his options. There was a note of triumph in his voice as he proclaimed, "Wanted to shag Harry Potter!"

Dudley choked on air while Eagle lost the game.

"You did that on purpose," hissed Eagle, hitting his friend.

Raven just laughed before telling Dudley, "I really like this game."

"Never have I ever, um…" Harry floundered, "liked dogs?"

Dudley idly noted that his cousin seemed flustered as he lowered his penultimate finger. Dove flounced off after her loss.

"Never have I ever liked whatever this band is playing," Dudley said, not really interested in his turn as he waved for another drink.

No one moved.

"It's a pretty shitty song," Raven mused, rubbing underneath his mask at his chin. "Never have I ever… wanted to shag Draco Malfoy." He sounded smug again.

Dudley had no idea who Raven was talking about, but Harry meekly lowered his hand.

"Thought so. Few bisexual students from Hogwarts would disagree," Raven explained.

"I'm not ashamed that I like him," Harry replied quietly.

"I said shag, not like."

"And I'm saying like, not just shag."

"Anyway!" Dudley interrupted. "Never have I ever been to Hogwarts. There – I win."

Raven chuckled as he lowered his hand. "I guess you do." He turned to Eagle and began to talk to him quietly.

"Do you want to go home?" Harry asked, swirling his drink.

Dudley wanted to say _hell yes_, but he held back. His cousin had always been a lonely kid and the fact that he chose to bring Dudley to a party as his plus one spoke volumes for his solitude. For once in Dudley's life, he was going to be considerate of Harry.

"Why don't you ask him to dance or something?" Dudley glanced meaningfully at Eagle.

Harry shook his head. "I can't dance. Besides, he's not interested in me."

"You don't know that. And one night stands can be fun, you know." Dudley shifted uncomfortably. "I can find my own way home."

"He's interested in Harry Potter and I'm not interested in one night stands."

"Look…" Dudley wondered if this kind of behaviour in a twenty-one-year-old was healthy. Maybe he should give Harry his therapist's card. They could commiserate on Dudley's parents, and there would be no more terrible balls and awkward conversations. Unfortunately, Harry needed his help now so Dudley would have to bring up discounted group therapy another day. "Harry, I know this guy isn't that - Malcoy? Malboy? Malvolio?"

"Malfoy." There was a note of amusement in Harry's ersatz voice.

"Right, him. I know this guy isn't him, but that doesn't mean you will be worse off for it. This guy is interested in you for a reason, and if you don't like him or that reason, you can just walk away. But you should at least _try_."

Harry put down his beer and half-hugged his cousin. "Thanks, Dudley."

"You're welcome, cousin." Dudley smiled. "Now go get him!"

Harry rose but didn't get to move because Eagle was in front of him.

"Would you like to dance?" Eagle asked, bowing formally. "It would be a crime to attend a ball without dancing at least once."

"Ummm…"

"Yes, he would," Dudley interrupted his cousin, practically shoving him into Eagle's arms. "Have fun, you two!"

After a bit more fuss on Harry's part, the pair made their way to the dance floor. Dudley drained his drink with a grimace, wondering if he could get a cab from wherever this place was.

"Would you like a ride home?" Raven asked him, watching his friend dance with Harry.

"Uhh…" Dudley had no idea how to explain that he lived in a non-magical neighbourhood.

"I've been to the Muggle side before, and I have a car."

"How did you-?"

"I pay attention." Raven turned away from the disaster on the dancefloor (even Dudley could tell that Harry was a terrible dance partner) and extended his hand. "Shall we head home? I can guarantee Harry will be busy with my friend for a while."

Dudley took Raven's hand numbly. Harry had never told him wizards could read minds!

"Blaise Zabini, at your service." Raven kissed Dudley's hand.

Dudley froze, blood rushing to his face as his brain suddenly reminded him that he was facing a bisexual wizard. "Dudley Dursley," he eventually muttered, pulling away.

"No need to be offended. It's wizard custom to greet in such a manner."

"Oh." Dudley felt dumb. "Sorry."

Blaise took Dudley's elbow and gently guided him towards the door. Dudley noticed he smelt like cinnamon. He also noticed the hand that was on his waist, but that could be explained by the fact that he couldn't walk straight.

"You're very fit," Blaise noted as he led him past the dance floor.

"I wrestle," Dudley mumbled back.

As they passed Harry and Eagle, Blaise called out, "I'll see you tomorrow, Draco!"

Dudley just managed to catch sight of the frozen couple before they were out the door. Somehow, he felt better knowing there were three people played tonight.


	2. Emerald

**Ring of Fire/King's Cup Challenge. Prompt: Salazar Slytherin**

**Pick a Card Challenge. Four of Hearts: Write about a romance between the original creators of the houses.**

* * *

**Emerald**

* * *

He was so much more than a snake

But history painted him so.

Emerald suited him

It was the one thing they got right.

...

Emerald was the colour of death

Not black as some claimed.

A single curse, no blood spilt

Brought death to his family.

...

Emerald was the grass

That grew over empty graves

Of friends whose deaths went unnoticed.

Epithets of meaningless words.

...

Emerald was the tiny snake

He found when all was lost.

They never saw eye-to-eye

But loyal she remained, even after his end.

...

Emerald were her eyes

She who accepted his all.

One hand led him to light,

To a home in a castle with friends.

...

Emerald was the feeling inside him

When she introduced them.

_No…_

"This is Patrick"

...

Emerald was the night

He joined the stars.


	3. The Power of Music

**This was written for berryandlisa's Survivor Game, Team Slytherpuff, Immunity Round. Prompt: Write about Harry learning to play an instrument.**

**It's a collaboration with NeonDomino, TheSummerNightingale, firefly81 and Sociially-Diisoriiented. This might later be removed and replaced on the latter's profile.**

* * *

Remus sat down on the piano bench next to a decidedly sullen Harry. He was staring, somewhat unseeingly, at the piano keys. Remus sighed inwardly. He loved Harry like his own, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with a morose teenager. Especially since the full moon had been last night. But since he apparently was incapable of saying no to Sirius, here he was.

"Harry. If you don't want to learn to play the piano, that's okay."

"No, no, I do. Sorry. What should I do?"

Remus nodded and proceeded to explain the different keys on the piano and the difference between the white and black. After about ten minutes of explaining, he asked Harry if he understood the placement of the keys. After confirming that he understood, Remus asked Harry to show him the C key. To which Harry just looked at him with a blank face.

"Okay, how about this? I'll play something easy and then you try to copy it."

Remus played chopsticks really slowly so Harry was able to follow. After he finished, he turned it over to Harry. Who went on to get it completely wrong.

"I'm hopeless, aren't I?

"Of course not, Harry. It takes much longer than a day to learn to play an instrument."

"Yeah, right!" Harry yelled as he stalked from the room, leaving Remus sitting on the piano bench wondering how the lesson went so bad so fast. Sirius owed him.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day as far from the third floor and its music room as possible. At least, he thought in relief, Remus wasn't going to force him to play any more. But apparently, Harry's brief, practically nonexistent exposure to music was not over, because not two days later, Harry found himself being ushered into the music room by Sirius himself.

"I'm rubbish at piano," he emphatically informed the empty room as his godfather all but pushed him through the doorway. "I tried already, and I'm rubbish-"

"So am I. That's why I'm going to teach you a different instrument. Sit." As Harry refused and stood in the center of the room, Sirius reached behind the grand piano, saying, "I was so sure that piano would fit you. You have long fingers, like Remus, but I guess piano wasn't your forte - haha, get it? That's why I'm teaching you how to play-" his hand latched around a wooden neck and he pulled the dusty instrument into view "-the guitar."

Harry's eyes betrayed him as they curiously raked over the strings and wooden surface as Sirius waved his wand above the instrument to clear the dust. "Is it yours?"

"All mine," said Sirius proudly. "My idiot brother and parents didn't know I kept it here, which was probably why it hasn't been incinerated." He tapped the top strings and grinned as a deep sound echoed in the room. "Perfect condition."

He handed the guitar to Harry, whose arm involuntarily reached out to grab the instrument. "Sit down," he advised as the guitar swung like a pendulum in Harry's grip. "It's easier to hold."

Harry sat on the piano bench, heaving the guitar onto his leg. He lightly strummed the strings, and a jumbled chord played out. "Is that it?" he asked a bit hopefully, and strummed downward again.

Sirius laughed. "Not quite. You have to learn a few chords first." When Harry didn't protest (though he resumed his wary expression), his godfather guided his hand towards the strings. "I'll teach you the C chord."

With careful fingers and an uncharacteristic patience, Sirius instructed Harry how to play the chord by pushing down on the brass strings. Harry's fingers shook as he struggled to keep them in the strange position on the neck of the guitar, and when he strummed, an unearthly shriek cried out from the vibration of the strings. It was amplified by the vast emptiness of the room.

Sirius winced and said, "Er, yeah, try again, sometimes that happens. You just have to press a little harder-"

But Harry was shaking his head. He abruptly stood up and pushed the guitar into Sirius's lap. "Here. It's no use."

"Harry," said Sirius. Impatience lined his tone, and Harry knew that his godfather wasn't going to be as lenient as Lupin. He didn't understand that Harry needed to succeed. He needed to win, he needed to know he was capable - he didn't need to fail, and he didn't need to know that he needed to practice to make perfect. He needed strength to face what was coming for him.

The piano and guitar couldn't give him that.

"I'm sorry," he said stiffly as he turned towards the door. "I just - I should probably be doing my Charms homework right now."

He left the room without another word because he did not trust himself to keep the boiling anger that only increased its temperature with the throbbing in his left hand where he had pressed the guitar's strings. Harry was halfway down the corridor when he heard guitar chords from the room he had just left. They were quiet, muted by the half-closed door, and Harry found himself creeping back to the music room.

His godfather was plucking at the strings, and a bittersweet melody reached Harry's ears. He peered into the room and saw a forlorn expression on Sirius's face. Harry did not know how long he stood there, absorbing the tune and the melancholy mood, but he jolted back to reality as soon as the music stopped.

As Sirius got up to put the guitar back into place, Harry scampered back down the hallway and ran down the staircase, Sirius's melody playing louder in his head with every step.

And it was the strangest thing - as Harry walked into the drawing room and was bombarded with the sounds of sharp remarks from Mrs. Weasley, the noise of the twins teasing Ginny, and Hermione's passionate conversation with Mr. Weasley about Muggle objects, he couldn't help but feel as if the house was silent.

As if it was silent without Sirius's melody, without Remus's 'Chopsticks', without the sound of music.

* * *

Gently, a melody took to the air. It was light, filled with the promise of laughter. As a stream of notes flowed from careful fingertips, one could almost see the hours of practice that had gone into perfecting the song. The age-old symphony began to rise to a crescendo of even more delicate notes, until a discordant note was struck and it fell apart.

There was silence, and then the practice song was changed for something raw, new, that ran on swift feet. An underlying note barked sporadically in between the higher notes. Harsh fingers scratched against strings, almost as if trying to make an impossible sound leap through the melody; as if searching for a harshness that could not be found within the instrument's scale; a howl that would echo and scream and die-

"Visitors are here to see Mr Harry Potter sir."

Harry's eyes opened and the images dancing in his mind retreated once again. Somehow, no matter what he did, he just could not turn the scenery in his mind to sound. His hands fell uselessly from the instrument.

"Thank you, Winky," he said quietly.

The faithful house elf pulled at her ears, worried that she had ruined his composition, but before she could even offer a suitable punishment, her master smiled warmly at her and bade her to lead him to the guests.

Winky almost didn't want to take her master to those vile humans who had brought the Potter household nothing but misery, but she had no choice. She fussed over him as long as she could, but eventually all the tea had been poured, the cushions plumped, the biscuits handed out and the fire sufficiently stoked. With a sad crack, she disapparated and left her master to face the firing squad alone.

"Well, Mr Potter, shall we get started?" asked one of the seated journalists.

Carefully hiding a grimace behind a smile and inwardly cursing Shacklebolt for making him the spokesperson for the Auror department, Harry began his monthly interview.

The usual questions came from the Daily Prophet reporter, who had finally conceded to writing notes by hand (no more Quick Quotes Quills, thank you very much).

"Was it true that the Malfoys had bribed the department to avoid Azkaban?" the unknown reporter began.

"No, and stop asking. The answer isn't going to change," Harry replied with a scowl.

"Why was the Wizengamot not taking a hardline stance against Pureblood families?"

"I am speaking for the Department of Magical Enforcement and can't answer that."

"But you're a part of the Wizengamot! "

"That's neither here nor there."

Blah, blah, blah… Harry knew the answers to such obvious questions by rote. Thankfully, the Daily Prophet's and the International Wizarding News' allotted seven questions were soon up and the Quibbler came to the fore.

Harry loved answering Luna's questions. They were the most unpredictable of all.

"What do you think of the depictions of magical creatures in the 'Pokemon' series?" she asked, staring at him with her large blue eyes.

"I think it will be passed off as a work of imagination and will boost the sales of Quibbler who have been writing about Jigglypuffs for years (to name but one)."

"Do you support the declarations made by certain members of the wizarding public that all those who participated in the Battle of Hogwarts should seek psychiatric treatment?"

'Oh, Luna,' Harry thought. 'You never cease to amaze me.'

"I dislike their method of phrasing," Harry said carefully. "They make it seem like we are one step away from madness, or suicide, or intense depression."

"But that's precisely what prompted it all! Students at Hogwarts had mental breakdowns and graduates from it have suffered meltdowns during work hours and the like!" interrupted the European Monthly Intrigue representative.

"I do not deny that there is a need for therapy, as many of us do suffer from PTSD, but the aggressive approach adopted by the public is counterproductive. It makes us feel lesser, as if something is wrong with us for feeling weak and for needing help! You cannot force someone into therapy and think that it will work. They need to decide to seek help on their own."

"But it is our duty to step in and do what's in everyone's best interest-"

"I believe that the floor is still mine," Luna said breezily, cutting into the European journalist's speech that had already gotten under Harry's skin. "Harry, you keep mentioning 'us' - does this mean you too undergo or underwent therapy?"

Harry hesitated slightly, then agreed.

The tension in the room rose significantly.

After that, the questions flowed readily, even from those who weren't allowed to speak. Finally, Harry had had enough and turned to the only reporter in the room with questions left to ask.

Luna smiled. "I'll ask two more questions: what specific type of therapy have you chosen and why?"

Harry bit his lip as he considered his answer. "I'm doing music therapy," he said finally, to the confusion of many in the room. "And as to why..."

In his mind's eye, he saw Remus bending over a piano, fingers swiftly skating over keys. A smile graced the werewolf's lips and a twinkle glimmered in his eyes, one that Harry saw less and less of as the war dragged on.

"Music is something I associate with many of the people I've lost in the war," he continued, voice shaking ever so slightly.

He could still see Sirius plucking his guitar, smiling even as his sad eyes echoed with pain and loss. Sometimes, usually when Remus joined him, the pain would fade and the melodies Sirius played would be happier, though never less intense. Everything Sirius had done, music or otherwise, came straight from his passionate heart.

"I don't like talking about them, but music therapy doesn't require it of me. I was never any good at it, at least in the beginning, though I am getting better. And even if I don't, I think that bad music can still heal hearts, if it's done joyfully."

Tonk's voice boldly resonated in his head, singing off key about unscrupulous men and barns, while Sirius and Remus laughed in the background. Then that bawdy drinking song faded, and instead he could see Dumbledore conducting the school song, humming tunelessly with a smile.

But only one voice sang the words. Fred Weasley shone brightly next to Dumbledore, singing the cheerful school anthem to the drawn out tune of a funeral march. The requiem rose and fell, died and was reborn.

"I thank you for your time," Harry said quietly, and walked away.

* * *

Harry didn't need an audience to hear him play. He had all the applause and commentary in his head, from those who had long departed.

"Really, Harry, the harp? You realise it's a Pureblood instrument."

"He should give it a shot if he's interested. Teach him, Padfoot. You're the only one here who knows how to play it."

"Sorry, Prongslet, Moony, but no bloody way. I hated learning it and I don't want to teach you something half-heartedly."

"Well, I'm learning now, Snuffles," Harry murmured quietly, fingers resting lightly against the strings. Taking a deep breath, he slipped back into his memories and began to play again.

There was no rhyme nor reason to his playing. Instead, it was a flow of thought tinged with the love Harry still carried for all that he had lost. It was a song with Remus's patient chopsticks, with Sirius's passionate riffs, with Tonk's drunken cries, with Dumbledore's cheery hummings. And always, always, Fred's prophetic tune from Harry's first year, reminding him of the place of death he had once considered home.

The music faded. The song was complete. It was not yet polished up. It still needed fine-tuning, but that could wait.

It had been three and a half years since the Battle of Hogwarts and only now could Harry let out his tears.


	4. Morning After

**Written for the 'This Means War' Competition. Team Hurricane: Round One. Prompt: Girls' night out**

* * *

Morning After

* * *

Luna groaned as her consciousness slowly returned. She clutched her pounding head as she tried to burrow into her blankets and return to dreamland but it was to no avail. After fifteen minutes of waiting to be dragged away from the light of awareness, she sat up.

Bad move.

Black spots crowded her unfocused vision. She collapsed forwards with a whimper. Okay, new plan: no vertical movements until she found her wand.

Planting a hand on the scrunched up bed covers, she dragged her body forward and repeated the action with her other hand. Since when had her bed been so big? Wait, was this her bed?

She lifted her head slightly to look at the coverlet. Giant radishes mixed with unicorns? Yes, this was her bed. Back to the problem at hand.

She forced herself forward again, until her hand missed the bed and slapped down on a cloth-covered mound.

'What in Morgana's name is this?' she thought, squeezing it slightly. She recognised the rough patterns of thick lace over cotton but the bouncy substance underneath was harder to identify. It was both hard and soft, feeling sort of like those muggle stress balls Hermione was always using, but nicer at the same time.

Luna wiggled forward, using her grip on the strange plumpness as leverage until she could peer over the edge of her bed. She was confronted by a human arse. It was wearing boy leg panties.

How odd.

Her other hand joined the first to knead the stranger's flesh. 'Hmm, either it's a female or a very small boy,' she decided. Her right hand slipped lower and confirmed that it was indeed a girl. Most of the stranger's body was underneath her four poster bed, but when Luna raised her head slightly, she saw long tapering legs flowing down from the plump buttocks she had been examining.

Well, this was a pleasant surprise.

She shimmied over the edge, hands outstretched to catch herself. Unfortunately, she landed with an 'Oomph!' on top of her guest.

The stranger's bum was very comfortable. Luna decided to use it as a pillow for a while. However, after laying blissfully in her strange position for a few minutes, she realised that it was odd that the stranger had not tossed her off.

She poked the closest thigh. It was warm. So the stranger was alive. Jolly good. Getting rid of bodies was such a tedious waste of time.

Tedious… such a nice word. The way it made your mouth move was funny. Luna mouthed it a couple times to herself. She could imagine Snape doing it. He had always made the most exaggerative mouth movements, as if he hadn't wanted his lips to meet. She tried doing it his way, with her teeth set against each other for a minute or two.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she spied a familiar stick of wood lying on the floor.

"Wand!" Luna cried triumphantly, launching herself at it. She touched it with the edge of her outstretched fingers, but the angle was wrong and sent it skittering out of reach. "Noooo… Mr Wand, come back!" She hurriedly crawled after it. "I won't hurt you! I just wanna hold youuuuu!"

And so began an epic game of cat-and-mouse between the hung-over Luna and her inanimate wand.

* * *

"It's time to duel!" Hermione cried, throwing her hand in the air. Balance lost, she fell over the side of the couch and banged her head against an inconveniently placed table. "Owww…" she moaned, rubbing her head.

Something landed in her hair. She glanced up and saw Padma slumbering on a coffee table, while her drool fell over the edge. Another drop of slobber fell on Hermione's face and she pulled a face as she pushed herself upright. Immediately it felt as if a centaur was galloping amok inside her head.

Blindly pulling her wand out of its holster, she cast the strongest Sobering Spell she knew and sighed as it speedily got rid of the lingering effects of alcohol in her system. That done, Hermione looked around to orientate herself. She was met with devastation.

There was a giant rubber duck protruding from the patio's broken glass door. Snapping turtles were floating in the air, surrounded by giants pink clouds. Hermione plucked one from the air. Huh, candy floss. Yet for some strange reason, it tasted spicy and sweet. The bottle cap table that Padma was slumbering on had mushrooms growing on it, although several had ripped themselves free and were currently bouncing all over the floor. A few even looked like they were trying to build a colony underneath the staircase.

Ginny was sleeping propped against the centre aisle of Luna's kitchen, half of a banana held in her mouth. The other half could be found in the mouth of Hannah, who was lying nearby as she cuddled a transfigured cushion that may have once been a cat, or vice versa. Hermione couldn't be sure, only wondering what the cat-cushion thought swiping its cushy paws on Hannah's face would do.

Parvati was passed out in a giant bubble. Hermione wasn't sure what to make of that, having been effectively distracted by the fact that she was dressed only in a skirt and that most of Luna's furniture had apparently been used in a bonfire last night.

After Hermione had summoned her shirt, bra and panties, she materialised several blankets to cover her friends' near-naked states. Only Parvati she couldn't help, since she didn't know how to break the bubble. Apparently, despite its perfect resemblance to a soapsud, it was made of hardened crystal.

Several thumps made her look towards the carpet-covered staircase in time to see a balled up Luna rolling down them.

"Luna?" Hermione asked cautiously, approaching her friend. "Are you okay?"

Luna flopped out of her original position and stared at Hermione wide-eyed. "My wand don't love me no more!" she exclaimed, pouting. "And there's a pair of legs and a really nice bum under my bed."

Hermione blinked, then cast a Sobering Spell on Luna too. "It's probably Susan. I don't see her anywhere."

"Oh, you're probably right," Luna said, standing up happily. "Thanks! I was too drunk to grab my wand."

"Do you know what happened last night?" Hermione asked, indicating the trashed room.

"All I remember is strip poker and the Magical Margarita Maker from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. And I nearly shagged Susan," replied Luna, pushing open the door to her laundry room.

A bunch of tiny monkeys (many of which were only half-transfigured from Luna's crockery) ran out, crying, "Freedom!" Luna just stared after them while more candy floss clouds floated out of the room.

She turned to Hermione. "Next girls' night out, we get a camcorder."

Hermione couldn't agree more.


	5. Delusional Dream

**Pick a Card Challenge. Two of Diamonds: Write about being second best. Alternatively, write about Ron Weasley.**

**Ring of Fire/King's Cup Challenge. Prompt: "No, this is Patrick" (variable) and "Don't make me laugh". Collab with HP Slash Luv. Hers was the first part, so check her out!**

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**Lame story is extremely lame. No plot. Just writing. Grrr... **

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Ron wasn't sure when he began to love Hermione. It might have been the moment when she had punched Malfoy, or that night of the Yuletide Ball or after she had set Snape on fire… The point was, there were many moments that Ron had always believed would culminate in him getting the girl.

The same girl who was currently snogging their ex-Potions Professor.

"What the bloody hell is going?" he cried out, causing them to break apart. _Good, that's the way it should be!_

"Hi, Ron," Hermione said calmly.

"Don't 'hi, ron' me! Why is this creep kissing you?" he snapped, before turning his glare onto the former Death Eater. "Just because you escaped Azkaban doesn't mean you can't be brought in for other charges, Snape."

"Don't make me laugh," Severus replied coldly. "A threat from an Auror-in-training who only got in because he's the friend of the Boy-Who-Lived is hardly worth the oxygen it takes up."

"Severus," Hermione said, frowning, "just because I chose you doesn't mean you can be an ass to one of my friends."

"What do you mean? You chose him for what?" Ron asked bewilderedly.

"As dumb as ever, I see, Weasley."

"I chose Severus to be my lover," Hermione explained.

"But-but…" Ron stuttered. "What happened to that bloke you were dating?" He pointed at her gay co-worker.

Hermione sighed. "No, that's Patrick, a FRIEND. Really, why do you guys keep thinking that?"

"Because anything is more believable than Severus, even that guy!"

"I believe you have it wrong, Weasley," Severus sneered as he put his arm around Hermione. "Anything is more believable than you."

"I'll talk to you later, Ron," Hermione said as she was led away.

And Ron was suddenly alone, with the dream romance that would never bloom into reality.


	6. Spring of the Domo

**Round One Entry for 'The Blindfolded Competition'. It's the best contest I've entered, with lots of personalised feedback. There's a second one starting soon, so you guys should check it out!**

**Theme: Spring Break**

**Character prompts: Luna Lovegood**

**Other prompts: "The magical properties of the domo" and "ice mice"**

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**Spring of the Domo**

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Domo sweat was powerful, more so than people thought. Of course, when most people thought of "Domo", they imagined the brown furry creature that the Japanese used as a symbol for a television broadcast network.

How utterly foolish.

Of course, those people weren't just muggles, but wizards too (if they actually paid attention to non-magical pop culture, that is). Foolish beings, Luna decided, was the perfect term for all of them. If only they could see beyond the dullness of their set world into the realm of possibility that existed in the 'impossible'.

At school, they had laughed at Luna's Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Her friends endured her with an air of charity, as if indulging her fantasies were all part of the package of friendship. They thought they were doing Luna a favour with they smiled condescendingly at her foolish ideas. They would pat her back, shrug their shoulder as if to say 'what can we do?' and wave her off with disbelieving calls of "good luck!" when she told them she was spending her spring break searching for the domo.

Well, she would show them.

"Wingardium leviosa!" she yelled, launching the ice mice into the air. The beast snarled at her while backing away from the cold confectionaries. "Come on, you cute little monster! Are you scared of a couple of sweeties?"

Of course he was. Domos were naturally repelled by cold, rodents and sugar-based sweets. And to think that Hermione had rolled her eyes and said Luna would chatter her teeth right off her jaw when Luna had bought all of Honeydukes' supply of ice mice. Hah! As if Luna would ever fall for such an obvious scheme of the Lutamorian Sweettooth Conspiracy.

"You have nowhere to go," Luna told the domo, gazing into its slit-eyed black pupils that glittered with intelligence and fear. She waved her wand and the ice mice fell from the sky, falling into place in the finished circle that prevented the domo from running away. Some of the animated sweets scampered closer to the large bearlike creature, causing a whimper to rise from the depths of its permanently agape jaw.

"Give in. I am your new master," Luna ordered, not breaking her gaze. The sweat-streaked sides of the beast shivered before stilling. Its large square head bowed and Luna knew her mission was over. Smiling, she walked closer to the domo. Now that it accepted her role as the alpha, it would obey her every command. She returned the ice mice to her bag and held out her hand to the domo, who nuzzled it gratefully.

"I'm going to take some of your sweat," she told the beast, who flopped onto its fur-lined back as if to encourage more petting.

"So it's true that you adapt to the personality your master wishes for you," Luna mused as she filled several vials with the pungent liquid. "I like playful animals, so you became one."

The domo clapped its hands together as if to applaud her wisdom.

"I think we're going to get along just fine," she told the creature. Now, time to make use of it…

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"Luna!" Ginny cried, hugging her friend tightly. "I'm so glad you came! Cancun is amazing! I can see while muggles come here every year!"

"Yeah!" Ron said as he entered the chalet the group of friends had rented together. "We've already gotten drunk, gotten high, puked a couple times…"

"Some of us even entered wet t-shirt contests," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "I thought you were going to be looking in Japan for one of your beasties?"

"I finished that," Luna replied breezily. "I came to invite you to my award ceremony tomorrow." Instead of answering their questions, she handed them the latest edition of the _Quibbler_ before wandering out the door to enjoy the sunset.

It was a very informative release. Not only did it feature an exclusive interview with Luna about her entry into the Magical Zoologist's hall of fame, but it also showcased all five of the creatures that had gotten her the prestigious recognition.

Luna was so glad she had found Dokidoki, her personal domo. Its sweat brought healing and good luck to whoever used it but, more importantly, its smell attracted other reclusive creatures. And its arm-length regenerating teeth could be ground up to create a drug that that provided a buzz without any negative benefits. She was already investigating its medicinal value, though she had brought some for her friends to experiment with.

All in all, a pretty successful spring break.


End file.
